The Diary:
by ladybrit
Summary: ramblings of an old cow town doctor
1. Chapter 1

The Diary

Ramblings of a Cow Town Doctor.

_This story is different. It is neither adventure nor plot nor romance. It is more about people – seen through the eyes of Doc Adams – my favorite character. I'm not sure if anyone else will like it, but I had to write it._

It was about six months ago when a young doctor, almost fresh out of school rode into town. He came up to my office, clean faced and enthusiastic. He said one of his professors in Baltimore had told him that I might be in need some help. He wanted to learn and perfect his skills.

His name was Ben Hollister.

He worked alongside me for over a month asking nothing more than that I share my knowledge with him. I started to let him see patients on his own. He was competent and the patients liked him.

At my age, riding over the prairie – even in a buggy – in the dead of night, to deliver babies, set broken limbs and so on, is getting to be too much for me. Gradually Ben was able to take some of that responsibility from my shoulders, so I took him on as a junior partner.

I had never had much free time before. Usually I would have to read my journals in the dead of night. Now I can afford time to go fishing or take a book and sit under a shade tree and just relax these old bones. It is well past time for me to retire and this may be my chance. Most of my friends, those I looked on as my family for all those years, have finally moved on. I think my time has come to do the same.

Ben tells me, one day, that the way of life that had been the Dodge City of my time, was changing, and eventually would be gone forever. Someone needed to document the events that happened in the lives of a cow town doctor and the other people who made this place their home. How did we live? What were our hopes and dreams? How did we survive in this rough and untamed frontier town? I had never had time to keep a real diary, but some of the records I kept on a few of my more frequent customers were enough to bring events back to my mind as clearly as if they had taken place yesterday. With their permission I record some of the incidents that stand out in my mind, some parts of their lives and some of my own.

I think the first thing I should tell is how I came to be in Dodge at all. Why on earth would anyone want to come to, let alone stay, in this so-called Gomorrah of the plains? It is a question that many people, including myself, have asked.

1. In which Dodge becomes home.

I grew up in Baltimore, the son of older, middle class parents, an only and somewhat lonely child. Like many children raised in a large city I had a yearning for the wide-open spaces of the countryside.

Forced to spend a good deal of my time by myself, I took to reading. I read everything I could find. This had two consequences, I did well at school and I developed an interest in medicine. This latter started when I came across a faded copy of "A treatise on Surgical Anatomy" by Abraham Colles. How it had found its way into my father's collection I will never know. Father was a lot older than my mother and had died when I was only 9 years of age, so he was not around for me to ask. He had been an auctioneer down at the stockyards. Not a very illustrious career, but he was good at it. He knew a lot about horses and cattle, and made himself a tidy sum off of commissions.

After finishing school with a good academic record I managed to gain the required study under a qualified physician in order to enter the medical school there in Baltimore. Money was not too much of a problem since my father had saved and invested wisely.

My mother stayed on this earth until I reached my eighteenth year, and then she, too, passed away to join my father in whatever kind of after life that existed for them. I can't say I missed either of them very much. We were not a very warm close family. In fact to my mind we never seemed to be a family at all. Yes they were my parents and had provided for my physical needs, but their marriage was cold and I think one of social convenience rather than love. When it came down to it, I doubt they ever wanted to be burdened with children but sometimes mistakes happen – and I was one of those.

By the time I had finished all the requirements for a diploma saying I was qualified to practice the 'Healing Arts,' I had just passed my twenty sixth birthday. I joined a friend of mine from the university in opening a practice in one of the more affluent neighbourhoods of Baltimore. We did remarkably well considering we were two young men with very recent medical degrees.

I met a young lady, Louise Elizabeth Fry. I courted her for a year and finally she consented to be my wife. Those were blissful heady days. I was making money, I had a profession I loved and a woman by my side that I adored. I bought a small house, not far from my office. After a year of marriage she became pregnant with our first child. For the first time in my life I felt that I was about to become part of a real family. My happiness was to last only for another nine months. The baby was stillborn – a son – and my beautiful Louise, who gave so much meaning to my life, succumbed to puerperal fever. I felt it was my fault, not because of lack of obstetrical care, heaven knows I had got her the best doctor I knew, but because I was the one that was the cause of the child within her, the child that ultimately brought about her death.

My heart and my life went from the heights of bliss to the depths of despair in the space of a few days.

I could not bear to see Baltimore, its streets, and especially the house where I had experienced such happiness and then such sorrow.

I took the only course open to me and left that place to go to another smaller town where I knew nobody, and likewise nobody knew me. I tried to find some solace at the bottom of a whisky bottle, but deep down I knew it would not be there. Before I could even think about another practice the cannons were fired from Fort Sumter and the War Between the States had begun.

Needless to say I joined the fight. In some ways it gave me respite from my own misery, but pretty soon I saw the misery of others and it horrified me equally.

My war experiences are not relevant to this account. Suffice it to say that once the fighting was over, and this new country of ours tried to get back on its feet, I found myself back where I started, without an aim in life. I was a fairly proficient surgeon by this time, and well read in the medical arts. I just needed some place to set down roots and allow my life to start over.

I made several attempts in different towns from Baltimore to Richmond. I knew my problem was that Louise was still in my heart. I could not give my affections to another woman. In my mind I was scared of hurting her or bringing that pain upon myself again. I decided I would stand alone, no family, no close friends, no way to suffer that hurt for a second time.

I had read that there were wagon trains leaving St. Louis, taking settlers to California to start new lives. I was told that, as a doctor traveling on the train, I would get a reduced fare. Maybe that was what I needed to do.

I headed out that way, but by the time I arrived in St. Louis the last wagons of the year had pulled out. The season was wrong. The wagons did not travel in winter.  
I decided to make my way west by stage, since the railroads were still awaiting completion.

I stopped in several small towns. Sometimes working for other physicians while they took weeks off to go fishing or visit relatives. One especially hot humid morning I was awakened from dozing to find that the hot dirty stagecoach I was traveling in had arrived in a town called Dodge City. How it had the name city I could not imagine. It was a collection of rundown wooden buildings, dusty unpaved streets and apparently one saloon for every ten members of the adult population. I intended to move on in a couple of days, just staying long enough for a few hot meals and a chance to wash the dust and dirt from my body and my clothes. I got a room at the so-called Dodge House, and went to eat across the street in a café called Delmonico's. The food wasn't bad, and surprisingly the hotel room turned out to be clean and the bed comfortable.

The second morning I was there, I was eating breakfast, again at Delmonico's, when a well dressed man who I would judge to be in his mid fifties came and introduced himself to me as the town doctor. He needed someone to cover his practice for about six weeks while he went to visit an ailing relative back east. He would pay me up front for my six-week stint and I could keep any money I made on top of that. He took me and showed me his office. He told me the city elders subsidized his rent to encourage him to stay. The only draw back was the office was located above a general store, meaning that there was a long flight of stairs to climb to get to it. He would leave all his instruments, furnishings and even his buggy at my disposal. He left town the next morning and I never saw him again.

The first week or so was pretty mundane. Coughs, colds, a baby or two to deliver and a bullet to be removed. Then tragedy struck the town.

The Sheriff was a pleasant man of about my own age. He had kept order in the town for about two years – a long time, by all accounts, for a lawman to survive in this part of the country. The spring cattle drives arrived and a whole company of drovers came into town, looking for whisky, women and card games. That night it got rough. The Sheriff tried to maintain order but he lost, not only the battle, but his life as well. I managed to remove the bullet from his chest, but in the night he started coughing a large quantity of blood and by morning he was dead. There had been nothing I could do.

For a whole month the town was without law. Cowboys, rustlers and buffalo hunters took over. I was counting the days until the Doctor returned, but as I crossed them off from the calendar on the wall and turned page after page, the weeks and then months went by and I realized he was not coming back. I guess I could have up and left, but what of the people in this lawless place. They needed someone to tend to their needs.

Eventually a young man rode into town on a large buckskin horse. A US Marshal. He was just a kid really, a tall, skinny young man, proudly wearing a new, shiny metal star on his shirt. Apparently the Marshals Service had seen fit to send a raw recruit to this godforsaken outpost on the prairie. People were placing bets on how long he would survive. A year was considered an outside chance.

Soldiers came from Fort Dodge bringing bricks and timbers, and in a week they had replaced the old dilapidated wooden building that had been the sheriff's office with a new brick US marshals office complete with jail.

A couple of days after his arrival the young Marshal came to my office. His name was Mathew Dillon. That's about all he told me about himself. He was going around the town trying to get to know all the inhabitants, businessmen, community leaders and private citizens alike. He invited me to join him for a drink that evening in the Long Branch, which was reputed to be one of the better saloons on Front Street.

The Long Branch was owned by Bill Pence and already, he and the young Marshal seemed to have struck up a friendship.

That night we sat there at a table at the back of the saloon, just talking and getting to know each other. It seemed he was as reluctant to talk about his past as I was, so we settle on discussing the trivialities of the day. Dodge was like that. Everyone here seemed to have something he wanted to forget, but the city was willing to give you a clean slate, you could start afresh from the day you arrived.

After a couple of drinks, two drovers standing at the bar got into an argument, a fight started. The tall skinny lawman waded in without hesitation. He was quick with his backhanded punches and his height gave him the advantage of intimidation. In no time the cowboys were lying in the street and both their pistols were in the Marshal's hands.

"You can go sleep that liquor off and come and pick up your guns from my office in the morning," I heard him tell them.

I was impressed by his strength and speed, but also by his ability to break up a situation before it got out of hand. For such a young man he had an unusual maturity.

He returned to the table where we had been sitting and continued the conversation like nothing had happened.

I spent several evenings in his company over the next few weeks. I found him to be educated and articulate, but at the same time reluctant to talk about himself and quiet around any large group of people unless, of course, he needed to take charge of a situation. In return he never asked about my background or what I wanted from life. I told him that I was not planning to stay in Dodge. I thought, when I arrived that I was just staying for six weeks, now almost six months had passed. I needed to be moving on to California.

He would sometimes seek me out to ask advice or discuss a problem. A couple of times he took me fishing. Looking back those fishing trips were some of the best times I remember from those early days. Over time we developed a mutual friendship and respect even though I assumed that I was just about old enough to be his father.

One morning a stranger rode into town. I don't know what had gone on before but an hour or two later I saw the man and Dillon facing off on Front Street. There was going to be a confrontation and I feared for my young friend. I watched as they drew their guns and fired. I need not have worried. I have never seen a man so cool, so fast and so accurate. I was beginning to think that Marshal Matt Dillon might manage to defy the odds.

It was several weeks later and I had decided I was definitely leaving this dusty, noisy excuse for a town. I had no sick patients under my care at the moment so it was a good time to bow out. I would miss the one or two friends I had made here but even so I had bought a stage fare as far as Denver. The stage was due to leave at noon.

Early that morning, just around daybreak there was the sound of gunfire in the street. It came from the direction of the bank.

I looked at my two packed bags; whatever was going on out there was none of my business. I was leaving.

A few minutes later there is a knock at the office door. Freddie – the barkeep from the Long Branch was standing there in an agitated state.

"You've gotta come Doc. There was a hold up at the bank, three men. One got away the Marshal shot two of them, but he's hurt bad.

Where is he? I asked

He's out there on the street, we didn't want to move him till you got there. I look despairingly at my two packed bags, then grab my medical bag and follow Freddie to the bank.

Looking back that was the start of what would be my accepting Dodge as my home. It took all my skills and two weeks of my life before my young friend was back on his feet. During that time I temporarily unpacked my bags. For good or bad they never got

packed again.


	2. Chapter 2

**2. Population Growth**

Dodge was like a living organism. It spotted its prey and then captured it and hung on. No one intentionally came to live in Dodge City most arrivals were just passing through. The city selected those it wanted to keep and somehow held on to them. They never got to leave.

Dodge was also a city of extremes. The weather brought extremes. In the summer the intense heat sucked the very life out of a man, then again the winter was brutal enough to freeze his bones. In between the heat and the cold, the dust that pervaded every facet of life here, could be turned to mud in a few minutes by a passing rain storm

The town spent many months of the year in a quiet struggle to survive. This was only broken by the wild activity of cattle herds arriving in the spring. They suddenly emptied bands of drovers onto the streets. These were young men who had been toughened by weeks on the trail. They had little regard for law and order, just a pocket full of money and they needed a place to spend it. Dodge had an insatiable appetite for that money, but had to suffer their abuses to earn it. This was the money that provided Dodge with the energy it needed to survive for the rest of the year.

The people came in extremes too. There were many hard working individuals trying to make an honest living. People like Bill Pence owner of the Long Branch and Ma Smalley who ran a boarding house, Mr. Jonas who ran the general store and Mr. Botkin of the bank. Of course there was also my young friend, the Marshal, with a quiet dedication to uphold the law, and, of course, there were those individuals, equally determined, who wanted to break it.

Daily life was very different to where I grew up. There was little in the way of luxuries to be had here. Entertainment was limited to gambling tables in the saloons and the occasional sociable in someone's barn at the edge of town. Sometimes there was a game of checkers to pass the time on a hot afternoon or an opportunity to share a few moments over a glass of beer with a friend.

Food was basic, meat from the beef that came through Dodge, fish from local streams and rivers, and sometimes game from the prairie.

During the two weeks it took me to get my friend the Marshal back on his feet, I delivered a set of twins at the Hamilton farm just south of town – I spent two days and nights there, but there was rejoicing when a healthy pair of boys were added to the family. In some ways it brought back feelings I did not want to remember. I wondered what it would have been like to raise a young couple that had been married a little over two years called me to deliver their first child, a of the many poor hardworking farmers who lived about half an hours ride from town fell from a hay loft and broke a leg which I had to go out and set. Such was the nature of my work,

I never got paid much, most of these folks had no money, sometimes I would be given crops or a chicken, but it was a rare occasion when I receive hard cash.

I was standing at the bar in the Long Branch talking to Bill. Ma Smalley was, as usual watching over Dillon for me while I was away from the office. The saloon doors were pushed open and a pair of drovers forced their way in. They were half dragging a third man. They threw him into a chair and then made their way to the bar. These two were particularly scruffy individuals. Probably stragglers from the last cattle drive to make it to Dodge that spring. The third man was a little different, for a start his right leg stuck out straight, and he was definitely not a drover like the other two, nor did he wear a gun. He held his left hand in his right like it was hurting. I looked harder and saw he had a good size burn. I approached him.

"Say looks like you hurt your hand there, maybe I can help you, my name's Doc Adams." I hold out my right hand to him. He takes it, "Chester Goode," he says.

The two drovers from the bar look over and laugh –"He's supposed to be a cook, but somehow he just tried to burn his hand off on the handle of a fry pan. I don't think he knows the first thing about fixing food. We don't need him any more." They return to their drinks and continue to laugh,

I took Chester up to my office and dressed the burn. He is overly grateful. "I'm sorry I can't pay yer nothing Doc, but if you have any work for me I'll gladly do it."

I look around and have an idea. "Come back in the morning and I'll find you something," I told him

Next morning he returns. I know he is hungry and take him to breakfast. By the amount he ate he would have to work for a week to repay me for that meal alone.

I take him back to the office and check on my lawman. He is awake and trying to get up out of the bed.

"Oh no you don't," I say pushing him back, "I don't plan to let you open up that wound, it took me too long to sew you back together." I help him sit up some then bring the breakfast I brought from Delmonico's and set it by the bed.

"Okay Chester this is your job. Help him eat this, make him some coffee and be sure he stays in that bed. I have to go make rounds in the country. Keep him right there till I get back, or no pay."

"Yes sir, Doc." He stumbled over the words.

Strangely enough it worked. The Marshal and the 'cook' played checkers and generally entertained each other every morning for a week. It cost me breakfast each morning but it was worth it.

By the end of the week the two men had developed a mutual friendship. When Matt was able to move back to the jail, he took Chester with him, having told him he would be in need of some help for a few days to clean the place up after he had been gone for two weeks. Like he told the man the pay wasn't good, "but you can sleep at the jail and I'll feed you when I can. All I want is someone to keep things tidy, get the mail, make the coffee and look after any prisoners I've got locked up."

I thought to myself that Dodge had captured another victim and knew Chester was going to be around for a while.

I had to wait on one more baby to decide to arrive, then I would be free to go on my way. I look at the empty bags. Once that baby was here I could pack them again. Suddenly I was not so sure. Apart from my short married life I had never experienced the feeling of belonging anywhere. Over the months that I'd been here I had become a part of this place and its people. I'd delivered their babies, fixed their broken limbs and tended to their bullet wounds. In the evenings there was usually good company to be had at the Long Branch. It was not a profitable or glamorous job, and it barely provided me with enough money to live on, but I did feel needed and respected.

Meantime I watched a good working relationship develop between the Lawman and his new assistant. Sometimes Chester did not seem to make the best decisions but he was loyal and would do anything Matt asked of him.

Several months went by and winter was approaching once more. One rainy day when the streets had turned to mud a stage pulled up in front of the depot and three people emerged onto the street. One of the passengers caught my eye. A young woman stylishly dressed with a feathered hat partly covering a well coiffed head of red hair.

I watched her walk towards Delmonico's. I knew Matt would be over there eating breakfast. I was sure he would notice her.

That afternoon I stopped outside the marshal's office. Matt and Chester were both sitting there doing nothing in particular. The Marshal was leaning back against the brick wall, his hat tipped over his eyes. I couldn't blame him for trying to catch a nap. Many nights he got little sleep. What with dealing with drunken cowboys and making rounds on the streets alone in the early hours of the morning he seldom got more than a few hours to rest. This was his only way of catching up.

I sat myself down in the third chair.

"So this is how the law operates in Dodge."

"Oh its you Doc, haven't you got a sick horse to go see or something," he said tilting his hat back and straightening his chair to look at me.

"Were you eating breakfast in Delmonico's this morning?" I asked while chewing on a toothpick, trying not to show undue interest.

"Yes .. and I saw her if that's what you're about to ask me."

"Oh no, …well I mean.. I just wondered, a nice young man like yourself could…"

He cut me off. "I've already told you Doc, relationships and this badge don't mix."

He put his hat back over his eyes to shut me out. Yes, I knew he had noticed.

I enjoyed watching those two young people over the next few weeks. The young woman's name was Kitty Russell and she went to work for Bill Pence at the Long Branch. Goodness she had some outstanding dresses. They revealed enough to be interesting, but still maintained a little mystery. They were all made of fine fabrics and of colors that complemented her red hair.

Of course Matt noticed. I saw him hanging around the saloon on many occasions just watching her move through the customers, comfortable around farmers, bankers or drovers alike. I realized she had noticed my friend too. She made excuses to stop and talk to him. Whether he was shy around women, or adhering to his principle of remaining unattached as long as he wore that badge I don't know, but she definitely put a lot of effort into getting his attention.

Kitty also became a good friend of mine. I would go by the Long Branch in the evenings. Sometimes she was sitting talking to Matt but would always invite me over to join them, other times she would just come and sit next to me and talk. I noticed that on those occasions her eyes kept wandering to the swing doors that led onto Front Street. I knew who she was watching for.

My 'family' was growing. For many years I knew nothing of Kitty's past. From watching her I could see she was a strong independent woman with a lot of common sense. She had a way with cards, and with men, she could handle both with an easy confidence. I watched as Bill Pence relied more and more on her help in running the saloon. She was definitely an asset to his business and certainly a cut above the usual saloon girls.

I knew that, like the rest of us, the day she arrived she had no intention of making this place her home but the predator that was Dodge saw a need and held her in its grasp.


	3. Chapter 3

**3. The Christmas Spirit**

Winter progressed with snow, rain and other challenges. Several times I would be out on the prairie seeing some of my more outlying patients and I would find my buggy bogged down in mud, or caught in a downpour. One time I got caught in an unexpected blizzard. I got completely turned around, unable to see where I was going and unsure of the direction I needed to take to get back to Dodge. Everything was white, neither landscape nor trail was visible. Not being used to surviving in this environment I was sure I would freeze to death out here alone. I unhitched my horse from the buggy so he would have a chance of surviving that was at least equal to my own, then sat wrapped in the thin blanket I had in the buggy. I don't know how long I had been asleep when a large hand squeezing my shoulder awakened me. The blizzard had subsided some, at least enough for me to see the grinning face of my rescuer.

"You know Doc you could have frozen to death out here."

"How in tarnation did you find me, Matt?"

"I saw that it was getting late and you hadn't come home, so I rode out to look for you. Didn't want you to miss supper at Delmonico's."

'Home' – a strange word I hadn't used in a long time, but yes, I think Dodge had trapped me too; I was another of its victims. It had become home.

Before I realized it, Christmas was upon us. This was a time for the citizens of Dodge and the surrounding population of farmers, sodbusters and the like, to take a respite from their hard working lives and enjoy a short time for celebration.

Kitty had the Long Branch decorated with tinsel, paper chains and branches which she had tied with red and green ribbons. She had sent for a plant called Mistletoe, all the way from Europe I think she said. She educated us on the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe. I never was sure where she had learned that fact or what she planned to do with it, I just knew she had a purpose in mind. This special plant had green leaves and small white berries. It was hard to tell because this particular specimen had been dried up from making the long journey to get here. She hung it from a beam at the rear of the saloon. It was on a long string so it finished up dangling about eight feet above the floor.

Kitty was determined to throw the biggest Christmas Eve party Dodge had ever seen.

I noticed her, several times, collecting a package or two from the depot. One morning I met her coming along the boardwalk, holding a square flat box in her left arm.

"Where would you be going young lady, on such a cold morning?"

"Just running some errands she replies. By the way Doc I haven't seen Matt in a couple of days, do you know where he is?"  
"Well yes, he took a prisoner over to Hays City. Didn't he tell you?"

"No, he didn't, and I had told him about the party on Christmas Eve. He better be here." She looks at the package under her arm, and I instinctively knew it was a gift she had bought for our Marshall. Indeed, I thought, he better be here.

A little later I head down to the telegraph office, I needed to make sure my young friend got back to Dodge for Christmas, I also needed to remind him to bring something back for a certain young lady. Hopefully he would get my wire when he got to Hays. I think Matt was like me. Family Christmases had never played a big part in his life, he would never understand the importance of December 25th to a young lady like Kitty, worse still, all this exchanging of gifts would hardly occur to him. He could get himself in a whole a lot of trouble with this redhead.

The celebrations were going full swing when I got to the Long Branch on the night of the party. A few of the farmers had got together to make a band, the music was loud and lively, many of the customers were dancing with the saloon girls. Even some of the more 'respectable' citizens of Dodge, who would usually never set foot inside the saloon, were there. Some had even brought their wives.

Kitty had arranged a whole tableful of food, with a large bowl of punch stood at one end for people to help themselves.

Maybe it was something to do with my father being an auctioneer, but sometime while I was at the university I found out that I was quite good as a square dance caller. Just to keep things going I joined the impromptu band and got everyone to their feet. Even Chester with his stiff leg was pretty good at getting around the floor.

Kitty kept looking towards the door, no sign of the tall Lawman.

Except for Kitty, everyone was having a great time.

I went over to talk with her,

"I'm sure he'd be here if he could. You know he had orders to take that prisoner to Hays. He had no choice."

"I know." She said. She put a very phony smile on her face, turned around and started talking to some rough looking cowboy fresh in off the trail. She had several dances with him but I didn't believe she was enjoying herself.

I kept looking at the clock. It was 11.30 already, just 30 minutes to go before Christmas day. I watched the hands of the clock as midnight approached. I noticed that Kitty was doing the same. About five minutes before the hour, a trail weary head and shoulders appeared above the batwing doors. She noticed it too and went over to greet him.

"Well don't just stand there, come on in Cowboy," she told him. She took him by the hand, and led him to the dance floor. The music was still playing. I could see that he was bone weary, but he managed a few uncoordinated steps.

The music stopped as the hands on the clock reached midnight. Everyone started hollering and hugging each other. Merry Christmas was heard from many voices throughout the saloon. I saw Kitty drag Matt over to where the mistletoe was hanging,

"Merry Christmas Marshal," she said planting a huge kiss on his cheek.

Even so I could see he was taken back by it and quite embarrassed.

Just to even things up she grabbed Chester and I, and bestowed on each of us a similar fate. It was different though, the passion that the first kiss had had, was not the same as the easy friendship that the jailer and I received.

Gradually the bar room cleared as people made their way home.

Finally there was just Matt, Chester, Kitty and I remaining. Freddie, the barkeep, was starting to clear the mess from the dance floor and put the tables and chairs back where they belonged.

We all sat at the table at the back of the room. Kitty disappeared behind for a minute, the bar and brought out a bottle of her special brandy. We sat drinking for a while. I could see that Matt was almost asleep sitting in the chair there. After I finished my drink, I told Chester we needed to get going. Chester of course did not get my meaning at first, but after I nudged him in the ribs a few times he decided to come with me.

Naturally I did not know at the time what happened after that, but from things Matt and Kitty had both told me later, I figured she somehow got him up to her room, not that he objected too strongly to that.

She gave him a package, fancily wrapped in green paper with a red ribbon. "Merry Christmas Matt," she had told him

He opened it slowly. Inside was a pair of leather gloves. Beautiful, soft leather, much more expensive than anything he would have afforded for himself. She must have noticed he had not worn gloves lately – they had got lost somewhere out on the trail and he had not had the money to replace them until his paycheck arrived.

"Thought you could use 'em."

"Kitty I ..I don't know what to say, they are perfect, right size and everything. How did you know I needed them?"

She laughed and brought him another glass of Brandy. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small box. Not as fancily wrapped, he was not even sure if he should give it to her.

"I got you something," he said as he handed it to her, feeling somewhat embarrassed. She opened it and found a little necklace, several small blue stones hung on a silver chain. She handed it to him and he put it around her neck. Then he took her in his arms. What happened after that I can only guess, but certainly their relationship changed from that night forward.

Christmas day that year brought another pleasant surprise; Kitty invited Chester, myself and of course Matt back to the Long Branch for dinner. I don't know if she had prepared the meal herself or arranged the whole thing to be set up. She had borrowed the office/stockroom from Bill Pence and had it set up with a round table that was decorated to the hilt. The centerpiece was a perfectly browned turkey and the large desk where the account ledgers usually lay, had been cleared and covered with a green cloth. Every kind of fixin' I had ever seen was set out there. I'll never forget how she looked that day, a silky blue gown, cut low in the front with black trim. Around her neck was a simple necklace consisting of a silver chain with several small blue stones hanging from it. It set off her blue eyes so that they sparkled.

She handed me a large carving knife and asked me to do the honors with the turkey.

Matt was dressed in the only jacket he owned, with a white shirt and a string tie. He acted as a perfect gentleman, holding a chair for Kitty and refilling drinks as necessary. Chester – well he was Chester.

After we had all eaten she pulled out two packages. One for me – which was a bottle of expensive Scotch whisky, and for Chester a pocket knife with a beautifully engraved handle. Neither of us knew what to say.

"I don't suppose you have any of that mistletoe hung up in here, young lady, because I want to give you a hug and a kiss."

She laughed, came over to me and sat in my lap. She put her arms around my neck and kissed me on the cheek. "You don't need to look for mistletoe Doc," she laughed.

I told her afterwards, that that was one of the most memorable Christmases I had ever spent.

The next morning as I came down the stairs from my office, I was about to head off down Front Street for breakfast. Something caught my eye. There had been a Doctor's shingle hung there on the wall of the building, but it had not been my name that was on it. Now it was gone and there in its place was a new shingle "Dr. G Adams MD, Surgeon and General Pract." it proclaimed. I never knew for certain where it came from or who had hung it there. I always suspected that a young Marshal and a red headed lady had something to do with it.

Whatever fates had brought me to Dodge and persuaded me to stay, had known a thing or two about what I needed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 Lister and Chester**

The worst of winter was yet to come. After Christmas came New Year and it brought the worst snowstorm any of us had seen. The snow on Front Street was deeper than the height of the boardwalks. There was nothing anyone could do except try to stay out of it, keep warm and wait for spring.

There was no business at the Long Branch, and very little crime. In some ways it was a rest time for all of us.

Gradually the snow melted, and life got hectic again. There was an outbreak of measles that affected almost every child in Dodge and the surrounding countryside. I was called out to a homestead about twenty miles from town to see two children whose parents were worried. When I got there I realized I was not dealing with measles but Diphtheria, a deadly contagion that was so often fatal. I stayed in that home for five days and nights trying every thing I knew, but first the five year old girl and then her eight year old brother succumbed. It was a terrible ordeal. The parents thanked me for coming and trying to save them, but that did not ease my pain, or theirs I thought.

I made my way back to Dodge and wearily climbed the stairs to my office. I was hoping that the isolation of that farm would spare me from having to deal with an outbreak of that terrible disease in this town. I had read the recent publications from Joseph Lister about the spread and control of infection, and proceeded to wash every instrument I had taken into that house, with carbolic. I did the same for my medical bag, my clothes and for myself. Once I had taken every precaution I knew of, I went to bed and tried to sleep. Lord knows I was exhausted, but those children's faces haunted my dreams.

There was knocking at my door.

"Doc..Doc, are you okay?" It was Kitty. I went to let her in.

"Where have you been, we were worried about you. Matt said he saw you and your buggy come into town several hours ago. My gosh you look exhausted."

I told her briefly what had happened.

"Oh Doc," she said, "I know you feel bad, but I'm sure you did everything you could. Come on over to the Long Branch and I'll buy you a drink."

Somehow I was sitting there at there at the back of the saloon, my 'family' gathered round me. How could a man not feel better?

Fortunately Dodge managed to miss a diphtheria epidemic, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

It was now over a year since I arrived in Dodge. The new Marshal had made a big difference to the place. People were beginning to respect the law. Of course there were still robberies, fights and hold –ups, but on the whole things were a lot better.

Naturally Matt had made a lot of enemies along the way, a few times people who had a grudge against him or the law, or thought they did, would come looking for him. Worse still sometimes they would hire some professional killer to do their dirty work. I don't know if Matt was lucky or had some kind of instinct that protected him, but one by one they tried and one by one they failed. I was always scared that one day those guns would fire and it would be my friend lying there in the street. I know that Kitty had the same nightmare.

Matt had to go out of town frequently, either to track bandits, escort prisoners or go to give evidence in a trial. There was always something. Chester was always nervous when the marshal was gone. For a man who never carried a gun, he did not lack bravery, sometimes common sense, yes, but never bravery.

There was a night when Matt was out of town. He'd had to take a prisoner to Hays for hanging. He'd only been back for twenty-four hours when there was a stage hold up west of town. So off he went again to track the outlaws. Chester was left in charge. He took his responsibilities very seriously. Matt had never expected him to break up bar room brawls, or face gunfighters. But that night there were a couple of cowboys in the Long Branch. One of them started to pick on Kitty and became too persistent. Chester jumped in to protect her. He did well for a few punches, but a man with a stiff leg is at a disadvantage. Finally both of them set on him, one held him while the other punched. Finally two or three of the regulars joined in and threw the cowboys out, but when they got Chester up to my office he was in a bad way, several broken ribs, a black eye and a mild concussion. I sat up all that night with him.

Matt got back in town the next afternoon. He was leading two horses with a prisoner tied to each. From the look of him, they had given him a rough time too. After he had them locked in the cells he came straight up to my office to see Chester.

While I cleaned up a couple of the cuts on his face and bandaged his left hand he talked to his assistant about the cowboys that did this. I knew he was planning to take off after them.

"How's he doing Doc?" he asked me as Chester closed his eyes.

I told him he would be all right, but it would be a few weeks before those ribs healed.

I knew he was planning to head out after them, he was angry I could see it in his eyes. I had never seen that look before.

"Matt you need to get some sleep," I told him

"They won't get away with this, Chester," was all he said. As he left he office I knew he was leaving town again.

Chester improved, and five days later was ready to leave the office and return to the jail. His ribs were still painful but he was over the worst.

We had had no word from Matt, and Kitty was worried. I was in the Long Branch that evening. Kitty brought a beer to the table for me and sat down. I tried to encourage her by telling her that Matt was tough and resourceful, he would be fine. I don't think I impressed her much.

I went to bed that night asking any powers that be, to keep my young friend safe.

True to form, it was not many more days before the Marshal came back with two horses and one prisoner in tow. He didn't look too good, but the prisoner was even worse off, he was barely able to stay on his horse.

I went down to the jail a little later ostensibly to check on the prisoner, but my main reason was to check on Matt. Of course he told me he was fine, and just needed some sleep. He told Chester that the other cowboy was dead, and he would keep this one in jail until the circuit court judge arrived in town in a week or so.

I watched Kitty and Matt over the next few months. It was obvious to me, and probably half the town, that there was something more than just a casual friendship between them. He would make a habit of stopping by every night after making his rounds, ostensibly to check that the last of the cowboys had left and the doors were locked. I knew there was more to it than that. Several mornings, when I had to leave town early to go see a patient in the country, I had seen the side door to the saloon open and a tall figure emerge into the alley. To begin with I thought that in a year or so he would give up that badge and they would get married, but it never happened that way.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5. Stairway to heaven.**

I have no idea how she did it, but a few years after arriving in Dodge, Kitty became half owner of the Long Branch. Her name appeared over the door along with Bill Pence. Matt was very proud of her achievement, as indeed I know she must have been. Things changed very little. Kitty did take over a suite of two rooms at one end of the upstairs hallway, and a few months later a set of stairs was installed leading from her rooms directly to the alley at the back of the building. Quite reasonable I suppose, the part owner did not want to always enter and exit her private residence by passing through a saloon full of drunken cowboys. That at least was what most of the citizens of Dodge thought. I had reason to know differently.

Bill Pence had to go out of town for a while, leaving Kitty to look after the Long Branch by herself. She was undaunted by the prospect, feeling that by this time she had enough experience to handle the running of the saloon without help. She did need another barkeep however mostly for the evening and nighttime shift.

Dodge reached out its predatorial hands again and found the answer. A tall craggy faced man about mid forties in age, turned up in Dodge. His soft spokenness and seemingly mild manner made him easy to get along with. He was looking for work for a few months. Somehow he found his way to the Long Branch. He told Kitty he had had experience as a barkeep in many towns east of here and even on the riverboats plying the Mississippi. Out of necessity she hired him. His name was Sam Noonan. He turned out to be friend and confidante to Kitty. He was a good listener – as every good barkeep should be – but tough when the situation demanded. He kept an old Winchester rifle behind the bar and could use it if the need arose. He was a hard working, honest man and could be very discreet when necessary. No one knew much about his private life and he never asked anyone about theirs, eventually he became a trusted friend to all of us.

The months marched on so rapidly that before I knew it one year had turned into five. There had been an outbreak of cattle rustling in an area just north of the Canadian River. The local lawmen seemed unable to control it and people were getting restless. The local government of the area, such as it was in those days, had asked the Attorney General's office to send help. They feared that some form of vigilante organization would emerge if the problem were not tackled soon. Who better for Washington to send than Matt Dillon?

He received his orders by wire one gloomy afternoon and planned to ride out towards Tascosa the next day. I could tell he did not want to do this job. I think even he realized that tackling some cattle rustling organization single handed, especially in that wild part of the country, left the odds stacked heavily against him. I got the impression that there was more to it than that, he knew or guessed something else that played on his mind, but he wouldn't tell me anything about it.

The night before he left he came to my office and gave me a letter.

"If I'm not back in three months," he said, "and if you don't hear from me, I want you to give this to Kitty." a long pause, "And this," he said giving me a second envelope, .. "this will need to opened too."

That sent chills through me. I knew he had just handed me his will, never had I seen Matt Dillon less than confident with his ability to handle an assignment.

We talked a while, and then as he left I shook his hand and wished him luck. His expression was grim, but he managed a smile,

"I'll see you later Doc, watch over Kitty while I'm gone."

I watched the tall figure descend the stairs and walk down Front Street. He turned into the alley by the Long Branch.

Next morning I saw Kitty out there in front of the Marshal's office as he was getting his bedroll secured behind his saddle and checking the tightness of the cinch. They knew to keep their relationship discreet on the streets of Dodge and I figured they had said their heart felt goodbyes the night before. In this half light of early dawn a look and a quick touch of hands had to suffice.

As I watched that lonely figure head out down Front Street on the big buckskin, I prayed to any power that might be listening to watch over him, after all it had worked once before.

At first we received a telegram about once a week telling us that all was well. Matt sent them to Chester, too much possibility of attracting attention if he addressed anything directly to Kitty. Even so there were words in there that she knew were meant for her. One time she received a letter, and I knew from the look on her face that she recognized his handwriting, but I never learned of its contents. After five or six weeks all communication stopped. We heard nothing, the weeks dragged on and we were heading towards the three-month mark. I was dreading delivering the letter that the lawman had entrusted to my care.

I had sat up reading some recent articles on infectious diseases, that night. My eyes got heavy and I realized I was reading but not comprehending. I could not help but think about Matt. What had happened to him? Was he still alive? Maybe he was stranded somewhere out there on the prairie.

I left my desk and went to bed. Sleep did not come easily, but eventually I must have drifted off.

There was a loud urgent banging on my door. I thought it was part of a dream until I heard Kitty's voice.

"Doc, wake up, its Kitty." More banging, persistent and urgent, "Doc, can you hear me?"

I knew by the sound of her voice something was terribly wrong and rushed to unlock the door. She was standing there with a coat wrapped over her nightgown. The look on her face was one of terror.

"Doc you have to come quick, its Matt, he needs you. He's hurt bad, worse than I've ever seen him before, please hurry."

At first I presumed he was down at the Marshal's office.

" Go on back to the jail and I'll meet you there as soon as I've got some clothes on and grabbed my bag."

She looked at me. "Not the jail, Doc, he's up in my room, use the back stairs from the alley."

I was surprised but did not remark on that fact.

"Go on back to him and I'll be there in a minute."

I dressed hurriedly, grabbed my hat, and took my medical bag, luckily I had replenished it the night before, then headed out to follow her.

The sight that met my eyes chilled me to the bone. My friend lay there on her big brass bed, silent and still. There was hardly a place on his torn clothes that was not soaked in blood. I felt for a pulse, it was there but only just. Feeling his forehead I detected quite a fever. He looked like he had taken a beating at some time in the last week or so. Multiple bruises and lacerations marked his face, some partially healed and others still bleeding.

Sam was there. He said he was cleaning up the mess in the saloon after the late night shift. It had taken him a little longer than usual. He let himself out the front door, and was making his way up Front Street when he noticed the big buckskin coming into town. The Marshal was draped on top of him, barely hanging on. Sam had lead the horse to the hitching rail outside the Long Branch and managed to catch the Marshal as he slid down the side of the horse towards the ground. He was barely conscious. Sam had helped him back inside the saloon and got him half sitting, half lying in a chair.

"Miss Kitty!," he had called up the stairs, "Miss Kitty, come quick."

She had leaned over the balustrade and looked down on the scene below. "Matt," she screamed. Is he alive Sam?" His head was rolled forward onto his chest and his arms hung limply from his shoulders.

"Yes I think so Miss Kitty, but you better go get Doc quickly."

"Get him upstairs Sam, I'll be right back."

While she took off up the street to fetch me, Sam had managed to get the lawman up the stairs to Kitty's rooms. It had not been an easy task. The big lawman had done little to help.

While the barkeep was telling his story I had undone what was left of Matt's shirt and got my stethoscope out. There was a bullet wound in his left shoulder. It looked like it had been worked on some, the bullet had been removed, but I don't think a trained doctor had performed the surgery. It looked like an infection had already set in and the surrounding tissue had been damaged. There was a significant amount of bruising around the rest of his chest, and on feeling along his ribs I found at least three that were broken.  
"We should take him to my office, he is going to need watching around the clock," I told Kitty.

"No, let him stay where he is. I'm going to watch him Doc. He'll be much more comfortable up here. Besides its more private than your office."

There were tears in her eyes.

"Please Doc don't let him die, he must have been through so much to get back home."

I didn't know how he had managed it either. He had lost a lot of blood, and had suffered a lot of pain. Something must have driven him to manage the days of travel it took to get back to Dodge.

I didn't argue. I got Sam to bring me some hot water and poured it into a bowl. I sat it on the stove and placed the instruments I would need in it.

"I'll need some help," I told Kitty

Fortunately Matt did not wake up while I cleaned the bullet wound and tried to repair some of the damage it had done. There was definitely some infection where the bullet had been, I hoped that careful cleaning two or three times a day would stop it from spreading.

She assisted me as best she could. I put a few stitches in some of the deeper lacerations that were still bleeding.

"Kitty, I need to get the rest of his clothes off to make sure there are no other injuries that need taking care of."

Sam looked uneasy at the prospect of removing the Marshal's clothes with Kitty standing there. I had the feeling that she had seen him in an unclothed state on many previous occasions, never the less it was going to take Sam's strength to maneuver his lifeless weight.  
"Kitty would you take those instruments I just got through with and clean them for me, we might need them again here in a minute."

She did as I asked, while Sam and I got the rest of Dillon's bloodied, torn clothes off. He had a deep cut on his right thigh that would take a few sutures. His knee looked like it had been stomped on a couple of times. We managed to turn him on his side for a minute so that I could inspect his back. There were several bruises and a few lacerations there also. A particularly nasty bruise was over where his right kidney would be. I could only hope no damage had been done to that organ.

Sam left to go take the Marshal's horse down to the livery, the buckskin probably needed a little extra care too, I am sure the trusty animal had been at least partly responsible for getting Matt back to town.

I spent the next two hours working on my friend. Finally I had done all I could for now. I told Kitty to call me if he woke up or developed a worse fever than he had already.

I would return in about four hours.

I spent the next three days checking on Dillon frequently. I watched Kitty as the initial relief that her Cowboy was home, wore off, only to be replaced by a deepening concern over his poor condition. If it hadn't been for Chester coming by at least once a day I think she would never have left his side. After a couple of days he woke up, but for me that was almost worse. I was still having to clean his wounds frequently, and I hated to put him through the pain. A couple of times when it got too bad for either of us to handle, I gave him an injection of Morphine. My bull headed friend refused to take the laudanum I offered him, saying he would never get to wake up if he did. He relented at night however, but I think only because he saw how much the painful groans of his sleep affected Kitty. Any slight movement on his part would cause a spasm of pain around his broken ribs, or his right leg where his knee was bruised and swollen.  
It seemed to take forever but eventually we got him out of bed and walking again – admittedly with a slight limp. He never would tell us what happened down on the Canadian river.

A few weeks later Chester found a newspaper from Tascosa. It was a month or so out of date, but a small paragraph reported that thanks to a US Marshal (un-named) several members of a large organized gang of cattle rustlers had been arrested tried and convicted. They would serve long prison sentences. Several had been killed while resisting arrest. There were a number of local lawmen involved in the scheme, and they had been arrested also, but were still awaiting trial. One had been killed.

Chester gave me the paper and I kept it hidden in my office. I thought that if Matt wanted us to know what happened during those three months, he would tell us one day. This was one occasion when his assistant managed to keep quiet about something.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6. Shadows of the Mind.**

It took Dillon a long time to recover from that trip. Physically he was able to resume work about four weeks after his return. But for many weeks something had been different about him. Never a great one for socializing he became more withdrawn, almost morose. He would not even respond to my bantering comments. I tried to get him to come fishing with me on more than one occasion, but he always found some excuse not to go.

One afternoon I cornered him in his office on the pretext of playing a game of checkers. I could tell he was not himself. I hated to admit it, but usually he could beat me without trying too hard. Today his mind, and game were all over the place.

"What's been troubling you Matt?" I had asked him casually.

"Nothing," was his one word reply.

"It's not going to get any better unless you talk about it." Again I had tried to make it a casual remark.

"Leave me alone," he shouted as he jumped to his feet. I could see his fists balling up and one came down heavily on the checkerboard, scattering the pieces all over the floor. For a minute there, I thought he was going to come across the table at me, but somehow he got himself under control.

"Look I'm sorry Doc, please just leave me alone now."

"I will, but I'm available to you any time, you know that. You need to come and see me. You can't go on like this." I had tried to be reassuring.

I let myself out onto the boardwalk, unsure what else I could do for my friend. I couldn't make him talk if he didn't want to. There might be just one person who could do that.

Kitty was wondering what was going on also. She came to me one evening while I was sitting at my desk reading.

"Can I talk to you for a minute Doc?" she said as she came in.

"Sure Kitty, what's troubling you?"

"It's Matt. Are you sure he's doing all right Doc – I know you cleared him to go back to work an' all but have you checked him over recently. I don't know what to make of him these last few weeks."

I asked her to explain.

She told me that to begin with, since the time he had been well enough to leave her rooms over at the Long Branch and return to work, he would not come near her. Eventually he would make his way into the saloon and sit at the table there, but hardly say anything. At last she got him to come back upstairs by promising he would be safe there, she would not ask him any questions or make him do or say anything he did not want to, so long as they were together within those four walls.

She told me that indeed he wanted to be around her, but he would just sit there, hardly saying anything at all. She kept her promise to him and only spoke of events of the day and the happenings in the town when he was in her room. He, in turn, spoke very little. If she tried to get him to talk to her in the Long Branch or on the street,, he would just answer her questions with as few words as possible, and sometimes not at all. On the other hand if she tried to leave, he would hold onto her, acting like he did not want to be alone.

"Also Doc…. He's not, well how can I put it…. He doesn't show any interest in me as a woman. Not that that is the most important thing on my mind, but Doc its like he has nothing left inside, he's not Matt. I don't even know if he has feelings for me anymore."

I understood what she was trying to tell me. I seriously thought about the letter he had given me to keep, should I let her read it, or was that breaking a confidence?

Then she told me something else that made me feel uneasy, "There's one more thing Doc, you weren't at the Long Branch last night. There was a scuffle between a couple of cowboys, Matt stepped in to break it up, but it wasn't like him. He kept throwing punch after punch, long after the cowboys were on the floor, like he wasn't able to quit. It was as if his mind was somewhere else. I thought he was going to kill them. I started calling to him to stop. Eventually Chester and Sam managed to pull him off. He didn't know where he was for several minutes. Its like he was in a different place. I was scared Doc, what's going on?"

I got up and put my hands on her shoulders, she was almost in tears. I thought back to the incident a few days earlier over the checkerboard. I told her that was not good. Matt was physically a strong man and he was out there with a badge and a gun. In my heart I knew that if we could not get him back to normal quickly it would be my job to inform the Attorney Generals Office. Matt could become a danger to himself or to others. That was a hard fact for me to face. I would have to watch him carefully.

I opened the drawer of my desk and reached to the back, pulling out the newspaper cutting I handed it to her.

After she had read it, I looked at her eyes and saw some tears welling there. Now I had to try to explain things to her.

"Kitty we don't know what went on, or what he went through. He didn't want to take that job, he knew it would be bad before he left, I have tried to get him to talk to me about it, but he won't. Right now it's all shut up in his head, he can't let it out or share it with anyone. Its just getting bigger and bigger and he can't find the way out of it."

"Someone must be able to help him Doc. Is there anything I can do?"

"It is a difficult problem. If you push him too hard he will probably back further away and become even more withdrawn. Somehow he has to talk about it but in his own time. Be patient, but give him opportunities and encouragement."

I had to admire Kitty's strength, she was determined not give up on her Marshal. I thought that in the end she would have a better chance of getting him to confide in her than I ever could. Over the next weeks, I watched as he she planned picnics, fishing trips, even early morning rides on the prairie. To begin with she would ask Chester or I to go along. She knew Matt felt safer that way. He knew she wouldn't question him or maybe, in his mind, try to seduce him, if someone else was around.

One afternoon I saw the wagon loaded and ready to head out for some evening fishing. Matt and Kitty were sitting there waiting for me to join them but I suddenly remembered a patient I had to go see. Matt hesitated, but before he could do much about it, Kitty took the lines from his hands and urged the team forward. This was how Kitty and I had planned it. It was either going to work or make him worse.

After that Kitty managed to get him to go riding with her several mornings a week, alone. Gradually I saw an improvement, it took many weeks, and I thought, a lot of patience on kitty's part. One morning I went to the Long Branch for a cup of coffee. Kitty was sitting there alone at the usual table, account ledgers spread out in front of her. I sat down and she looked up at me as she poured from that fancy pot of hers. That sparkle was back in her eyes. I knew then that everything was going to be all right now.

It was over a week until I got to talk with Kitty in private. Matt had ridden out to Fort Dodge to talk with one of the Indian scouts there. She came up to my office and we were sitting at my desk. The story she told me showed what an intelligent, sensitive person she was, and how deeply she cared about the Marshal.

"Doc, I persuaded Matt to let me tell you the essentials of what went on during those months he was away – just in case it was of any medical significance in the future.

That day we went off for the first picnic alone, when you suddenly remembered a patient you had to see, he was very suspicious, scared to sit too close to me, or say more than a few words. I let him be, let him get some confidence that I would not hound him for answers. You had told me to let it come at his pace. It took two more picnics and a fishing trip before I got anything out of him at all. We were sitting there and the fish weren't biting. He looked at me and I could see tears in his eyes. I wanted to go to him, but I knew not to. This had to be his doing. After a while he looks up at me again then turns and buries his face in his arms.

"I'm sorry Kitty, I've not been much of a man for you these last weeks." The words were half mumbled.

"I'm here Matt and I can wait till you feel better."

"I just don't know what to do, its like dark shadows are in my head. Everywhere I turn, I see things that happened while I was down there on the Canadian River. I can't get rid of them." He began drawing meaningless shapes in the ground with a stick he had picked up.

I moved a little closer. "Matt you need to let some of them out. Talk to me or to Doc. He said talking about it would help. I know it's hard to get started, but it is the only way. I've heard you at night in your dreams." He said nothing for a few minutes. I waited. "Slowly and carefully he started to tell me the story. It was like he had to pull every word from deep inside himself. He didn't get very far that first day.

"I knew when I left here that the people responsible for this were most likely people I used to know. I had told you once that I spent some time in Texas, working cattle and running wild. These would be people I had ridden with, grown up with, till we had become almost like brothers. I knew some of them would rather die than be taken by the law, and then it would have to be my gun that killed them."

It seemed he had problems continuing. I moved closer so that I was touching him, shoulder to shoulder. We both stared into the water in front of us.

"You don't have to tell me all in one go, Matt, just what you can manage. Take your time, I'm here for you for as long as it takes."

He sat there continuing to stare at the water.

Over the course of our next few outings he continued the story, little at a time.

He told me how he had tracked the rustlers down, and found the farm where they were taking the cattle, altering brands and then heading them off for sale. There was a gun battle. Four were dead, four men he knew like brothers, and he had killed them. He tried to take the others into town alive, but on the way they overcame him and he got that bullet in his shoulder. They kept him tied up for days, and treated him pretty rough. They were mad at him for trying to turn them in. They couldn't understand that he represented the law now. They kept telling him he just needed to ride back to Dodge, and tell the Marshal's service that he could not find them, that they had left the territory. Of course there was no way he was able to do that, but he wished he could.

Mostly he remembered pain, not only physical but mental, which was almost worse. These men had at one time been so close to him. He knew he was going to die and almost welcomed the thought. That way he would not have to kill them. He said that I was there in the back of his mind all that time and he felt guilty about letting me down if he gave up. It was a conflict he couldn't solve.

They were back at the farm. They kept him locked up in the cellar, with barely enough food and water to keep him alive. He knew he would have died there if another old friend of his hadn't shown up. The friend was now a local sheriff. Somehow he persuaded the rustlers to treat Matt a little better, he got him out of the cellar and dug the bullet out of his shoulder. He fed him and took care of his wounds. Listening to the conversations of the men, Matt realized this friend was heavily involved in the deal, as were several other lawmen from the area. He didn't tell me all the details, but the 'Sheriff' slipped him a gun, telling him to get away and ride home. Somehow he managed to turn the tables, and had the rustlers handcuffed and ready to go to town, except the Sherriff that is. He would not be taken. It came down to a gunfight and Matt had no choice but to kill him with the very gun the friend had given him to save his own life. He managed to get the others to town and locked in the jail. He notified the Marshal's service, and also gave them the names of the other lawmen involved. Many of them he knew. He doesn't remember most of what happened after that or how he got back here."

"Doc, it took him many tries before he got the whole story out. He never wanted to talk about it in my room, which was like a sanctuary where he could hide from speaking his fears. He would only tell me more of the story when we took our little trips out of town. You know how Matt hates killing, and these were people that he knew and thought of as friends, and he had to kill them, worse still they were going to kill him. You were right though, now he has talked about it, he feels better. He said that once he could get those demons out in the open it was kinda like they evaporated. At first he had to force himself into taking those trips with me, dreading having to tell me more of the story, but eventually he was anxious to get through with it, and be free of the nightmares. He's a lot better now."

"Yes Kitty," I told her, "I saw it in your eyes the other morning."

A soft smile came to her lips, and she nodded.

"I have to go now, He'll be back soon."

"Kitty you did a great job. I don't know of anyone else that would have had the strength to do that."

She smiled back at me as she left.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7. Arrivals and Departures.**

Chester began leaving town for weeks at a time till finally he was gone altogether, I know Matt missed having him around – as did all of us. Just as Dodge never asked about where its people came from, neither did it ask where they went when they left. It was Matt's opinion that he had met a girl and wanted to get married, and start a new life, but was scared to tell anyone in case it all fell through.

There was a hill man by the name of Festus Haggen, who had been around town on and off. He was a wolfer by trade, but had many other skills. He had first met Matt out on the prairie and helped him get back to town after he had been shot in the arm.

Dodge was now big enough that the attorney generals office agreed to pay for a full time Deputy, so Matt had enlisted Festus. I was a little leery at first, but gradually we all began to trust the strange character and he became part of our 'family'. He too, just as Chester before him, became totally devoted to Matt and Kitty, and he and I had a friendship that survived an ongoing battle of words.

Festus was a remarkable man, going through life never having learned to read and almost proud of it. He showed his loyalty to Matt and Kitty on many occasions.

The one I remember most was when Mace Gore's men came into town and Kitty and Festus, through a ruse of my own, believed Matt to be dead. His gentle way of approaching her and promising he would hunt those men down came from the bottom of his heart. It made me ashamed of the stunt I had had to pull, and the agony I put the two of them through. I must admit that for a few desperate seconds there on the street, I too believed that Matt was beyond my help. Even today I can recall how I felt my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach, then a faint pulse, barely detectable and I had but a second to decide. I shall never forget the despair on Kitty's face and the way she looked at me in total disbelief. In that brief instant, she felt her whole world crumble. All I could do was to give her the gift of sleep for a few hours, while I went to try and patch Matt back together, if that would be at all possible.

Once Festus understood the situation he did everything possible to help me. I will never forget those dark hours. I really doubted my ability to pull the Marshal through after the four bullets he had taken, especially as I had to work in those half lit, less than clean conditions. But once again he showed his remarkable powers of recuperation and was back on his feet in about two weeks. Of course Kitty had played big part in his recovery. We finally got him to my office so that I could finish the surgery I had started in the cellar of the Long Branch. She had stayed with him almost day and night for those first few days, trying to get him to eat, helping me keep his wounds from festering and trying to control his pain. Finally he felt well enough to leave my office, I know he went back to her rooms above the Long Branch for several more days before finally telling me he was ready to return to work. There's not much you can do when Matt Dillon makes up his mind.

I hope Kitty forgave me for that. I think, in her head, she understood that it was the only way I could think of on the spur of the moment to save Matt's life and give Dodge a chance to survive as well. But in her heart, that was another matter, I don't think she ever forgot those terrible hours.

The other thing about Festus was his strange family. He must have had a hundred of them living back there in the hill country. We got to meet a few over the years, each one seeming stranger than the last.

I'm not sure exactly when it was, but somewhere in these years Bill Pence left town. As with all the others that disappeared from Dodge, no one knew where he went or why. I do not even know what agreement they reached, but Kitty from then on was the sole proprietor of the Long Branch. There was her name, and her name alone on the sign above the door. That was a big day for her, even though it meant that Bill was gone.  
I kept thinking that this had been her aim in life, to be a business woman in her own right and thought that now she would talk her Cowboy into settling down and giving her the other things she wanted– a home and a family.

It seemed however that this never was to be. Many times I broached the subject with Matt. Once after he was severely wounded by a gunslinger, Kitty could not bare watching him risk his life on a daily basis any more. She left town having put the Long Branch up for sale. I had a long talk with him that time. He had given so many years of his life to serving Dodge and its citizens, he deserved some form retirement and happiness now. Somehow he didn't see it that way.

For some reason Kitty came back, and their relationship continued along on the same path it always had taken. She reopened the Long Branch and it was like she'd never been gone.

I concluded then that Matt would never give up that star on his chest. It saddened me to see these two people, obviously connected to each other in a way most of us never experience, deprive themselves of something that was so easily within their reach.


	8. Chapter 8

_Please accept that I totally ignored most of season 20 and all the GS movies that followed when I wrote this. This was intentional, so forgive me if you think they were important. To me they were better left unsaid._

_What I have written could have taken place behind the story lines, after all none of it occurred on the streets of Dodge, or in view of its citizens. Matt was careful about that. Also, and more importantly, I like happy endings._

**Chapter 8. Office Visit**

Dodge continued to evolve. New characters arrived and old ones vanished just as silently as they had come.

Newly O'Brien came into town in just that way, a gunsmith by trade but with an interest in medicine. I helped and supervised with his studies for a long time thinking he would make a good doctor one day and take over my practice. But things did not turn out that way. He decided that his gun shop had priority, and at some point he became one of Matt's deputies. I think our Marshal had similar plans to myself, this young man would make a good Marshal for Dodge City one day, and take over his job.

Newly must have been in town for about five or six years when Matt caught up with me one afternoon.

"You got any plans for later,"

"Well not that I know of, are you inviting me to supper?"

"I need to come see you."

"Anytime Matt – you know that."

That request, coming from him was unusual in itself. I could only recall one or two previous occasions when Matt had come to me, voluntarily, with a medical problem – and then it was mostly because Kitty had made him.

He just smiled. I thought he had been having some trouble with his back lately, and the limp he had developed as a result of several injuries to his right leg was a little more noticeable. Maybe he needed some help with that.

I had finished seeing the few patients in town that I had promised to make rounds on and headed back to my office. I had just put the coffee pot on the stove when I heard footsteps on the stairs. Looking out the window I saw Kitty and the Marshal headed towards the door. Not too surprising, several times she had accompanied him before. Both of them were smiling which was something I did not understand. Matt was all cleaned up and wearing a freshly laundered white shirt under his tan vest.

"Come in and have a seat I tell them pointing to the chairs by my desk. After a few generalities I decided it was time to get down to the reason behind the visit.

"Tell me what's been going on, and what I can do for you," I said pulling up a chair across from them.

"Don't be so impatient Doc," said Matt, grinning all over that face of his.

Now I am totally confused.

A few minutes of general conversation follow before there are more footsteps on the stairs, the door opens and there is Judge Brooker.

"Evening Judge," I tell him, thinking he had inadvertently arrived at a bad time to make a social call.

Close behind came a face I hadn't seen in many years, this could not be coincidence.

"By thunder Quint Asper, what are you here for?" It was all totally outside my comprehension now.

They all stand there grinning at me.

Kitty decides it is time to let me in on the secret also.

"Doc, Judge Brooker is here because Matt and I want to get married. You and Quint are here as witnesses."

I laughed, thinking this was some kind of joke, but no they seemed to be serious.

"For heavens sakes you might have told me. I'm hardly dressed for the occasion." I was standing there in a pair of scruffy pants, rolled up shirt sleeves and the old vest that I had worn for years because the pockets were just the right size to hold my spectacles case and my pocket watch.

I put down the coffee pot that I had been about to pour and gave Kitty a hug. I couldn't be happier, "But why the rush, we should have had the biggest party this town's ever seen."

"No Doc," said Matt, "No one else needs to know. You know how dangerous it would be for Kitty if any one knew she was my wife."

"So what are you going to do?"

"In time you will see, meantime let's get on with this. The Judge has to leave on the six o'clock stage."

The ceremony was short. For the first time I saw Matt and Kitty share a real kiss, he even had a wedding band for her, but she would have to take it off again before leaving the office.

Kitty had brought a bottle of fine whisky for us to celebrate. I had no fancy glasses, so we poured it into the white coffee mugs, and toasted the bride and groom.

The Judge had to leave, but Quint stayed for a while and we talked. It was good to see him again, both for me, and the newly-weds.

After he had gone, I sat and talked with my friends for a while.

"Doc," said Matt "I need to ask you a favor, Kitty and I want to go away for a couple of weeks. I will leave Newly in charge, but we need an excuse to leave town together. No one must know about this," he holds up the marriage certificate, then puts it safely in his pocket.

"What's this favor you want Matt? You know I'll do anything I can."

"Like I said, Kitty and I need an excuse to leave town together. You know my back's really been hurting lately, remember that bullet you took out from around my spine a year or so ago. I thought maybe you could let it be known that I'm going to Baltimore to see some kind of a specialist. You get enough mail from the medical college there that no-one would be any the wiser."

"Well Matt, now I am sure Kevin could arrange for some one to see you…"

"No Doc, its not that bad, I just want you to mention it around to a few people. You don't have to say much. All we need is an excuse to leave town for a week or so. People round here would accept the idea of Kitty coming with me for that."

"Well by golly – that's no problem, any one could see you've been hurting some. Well I mean I noticed," I backed off of that statement a little. I went and got the cane I had given him to use on a couple of occasions, "maybe you could use this a time or two. Might help convince a few people."

A few weeks later Matt and Kitty left town on the train to Baltimore, for what only I knew to be their honey moon. Kitty had left a lady – and I use the term loosely, to look after the Long Branch. I must admit Hannah did a fine job. She definitely had a way with the cowboys - a way that usually involved a pistol.

I never asked what my friends did or where they went, but on their return I saw that Matt looked a lot less stressed than he had in years. As far as Dodge could tell everything was as it ever was but

I noticed that Matt let Newly take over more and more of his duties as Marshal, a responsibility that the young man seemed to relish.

Early one morning there was a knock at my door and a young boy delivered me a note.

'I couldn't bring myself to say goodbye Doc, especially as I hope I will see you again one day. Take care of yourself.

K.'

That was it. Somehow I held back my tears. As far as the rest of the town knew Kitty had just left like so many had done before. No explanation. Just vanished. There were rumours that her and Dillon had finally parted ways. I knew better but it did not help much. Hannah had returned and took ownership of the Long Branch. It would not be the same.

Some weeks later I received a letter from Baltimore. It looked like it was the usual communications I got from the medical college there, and I did not open it immediately. When eventually I was clearing out my mail one evening I opened the envelope and there was a long letter from Kitty. In it she said many things that came from her heart. She wrote that there was no way she could have told me she was leaving, even less come to tell me goodbye, but one day we would all meet up again. That was a promise.

Matt moped around for a few weeks, then he told me and Newly that he had to go to Washington on government business.

He was gone for almost a month.

Shortly after his return, he once more he climbed the steps to my office, clutching a large envelope.

"Tell me Matt," I asked him, "what has been going on? – You left town without telling me anything at all."

"Its quite simple really, I tried to hand in my resignation." He continued with the rest of his story telling me that the Attorney General wanted to talk with him in person before he did that. He said he wanted to know why he was giving up my badge and what he planned to do.

Matt continued his story. "I explained to him that riding over the prairie for days on end no longer appealed to me, and that I wanted to settle down somewhere with the woman I had married. He still seemed reluctant to accept my decision so I went on to tell him that I had back problems and just didn't feel I could do the job anymore. Then he offered me something else. He wants me to take over as director of the Marshal's Service, answering only to him. I will have a free hand with organizing and running the service. Its good pay and I wouldn't even have to go into the office every day.

In my heart I knew this was the best thing my friends could ever have hoped for, but I was saddened inside by the knowledge that soon he too would be leaving Dodge.

"That sounds perfect for you. How does Kitty feel about it?"

"She is just happy that in a while we will be together. I just need for you to fill in these medical forms saying I will be physically able to do the job they are offering me."

"I'd be glad to do it Matt. How's Kitty?"

"She's fine. We rented a small house not too far from where Kevin lives. He is married now and Kitty and Marylyn have become good friends. I think she is safe there for now. She sends you her love."

I turned away, pretending to open the envelope but having to wipe a little moisture from my eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9. Time With Old Friends**.

Finally the day came when Matt, too, left Dodge for good. He said hardly anything to me about it before he left. Just a short meeting in his office where Newly was celebrating his promotion to US Marshal. He would remain based in Dodge City just like Matt had been.

Matt and Kitty had been my mainstays for all those years and now they were gone. Dodge was different. It was time for me to move on also. I just had to find someone to care for all these people, and then I too could search for greener pastures. Maybe I could still make it out to California.

From time to time an occasional gunslinger came through town looking for Matt, but the only story they got was that as far as anyone knew, Kitty had left him and he gave up his badge and left with a broken heart. Nobody knew where he had gone. Gradually with time these unwelcome visitors ceased. Guns became less prominent in town as civilization became more established.

Another year went by before young Ben Hollister arrived on my doorstep. I worked along side him for many months, gradually passing responsibilities into his younger, more capable hands. After a year or so I no longer saw patients as a regular routine.

Finally I could leave, but somehow I still could not tear my self away from these dusty streets. One morning I was loading up the buggy to go fishing, when a scruffy looking old man came up to me.

"Are you Doc Adams?"

"Yes." I answered.

"There's a man out at the Hamilton ranch, says he needs you. Said for you to ride out there and see him."

"I didn't know that any one was living out there now. Is he sick or something?"

"I guess so."

"Well I retired a year ago, I don't see patients any more. You need my young partner Dr. Hollister."

"No sir, he said it had to be you."

I guess from habit I could not refuse.

It took me two hours to drive my buggy out there. I was quite perturbed by the time I arrived, it had cost me a days fishing, and at my age, who knew how many more fishing days I had left.

I grabbed my bag and went and knocked on the door.

It opened to reveal the best surprise I had had in over a year. There was Kitty, looking beautiful as ever and behind her stood Matt, without, I am glad to say, that badge on his chest.

"Well what in tarnation is this all about, fancy getting me to drive all the way out here, it's too much for a man of my years."

"Oh Doc," said Matt, "stop complaining and come sit by the fire, Kitty has some coffee on and lunch is almost ready."

I sat and enjoyed just being with them again.

Between them they told me what had been happening since Matt left Dodge.

They were reunited in Baltimore and had a small celebration at Kevin and Marylyn's house. Matt would not tell me exactly where they were living now, but they had managed to find a small ranch a few miles from Washington where there was good fishing and enough space for him to raise and sell a few horses in his spare time. Kitty loved having the amenities of the City so close by and it was not too far to travel to stay in touch with Kevin and his wife. Matt was enjoying the challenges of his new job, and was delighted when they had allowed him to keep his badge, of course he did not wear it all the time anymore

"Doc, come and move up here with us, there is plenty of room on the property for you to have a small place of your own. We miss you." Kitty gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Her action was interrupted by a noise, something I never thought I'd hear, a baby crying.

Matt laughed and took me to another small room behind a curtain.

"I guess this is as close to a grand son as you are likely to get."

I held the little boy on my lap and thought he looked to be about two years old. Looking in wonder at this product of their love, I figured he was probably conceived on that honeymoon of theirs. I think it helped replace something I had lost all those years ago.

I could only stay a little while, didn't want a search party coming out from Dodge to look for me. Just one night and then I left.

Matt told me that when I decided to visit them just wire Kevin, tell him you need to come to visit or discuss a case or something. Just leave the rest to us.

Oh yes I planned to do that.

I got back too Dodge the next afternoon and told Ben that I had run into an old friend down by the Arkansas River and spent the night at his place. No one had noticed that I had been gone.

I wanted to tell the world about Matt and Kitty finally being together, but I knew that was knowledge for me alone. They had borrowed that old Hamilton place for a few days and had left shortly after I did.

The following Christmas I took Matt and Kitty up on their offer. I had told Ben I was going to visit some old friends in Baltimore. He did not question me on it, in fact I think he was quite thankful. He had just met a young lady and, I am sure, was not looking forward to including me in his holiday plans. Strange thing, she had arrived in Dodge about a month ago by stage, and was working at the Long Branch, she did not have red hair but never the less I got to thinking.

I wired Kevin telling him the date and time of my arrival. He and Marilyn met me at the train station and had a carriage waiting to take me back to their house. I enjoyed their hospitality that night. It was already dark and I was half asleep when I heard the commotion of someone arriving at the house, but soon all was quiet again and I slept.

It was early next morning when a knock at my door awakened me. A smiling face looked in with a cup of coffee.

"You planning to sleep all day Doc, we've got a long ride."

"Matt Dillon," I yelled, "By thunder that was you I heard arriving last night. You made enough noise for a whole company of soldiers."

He just grinned at me.

"Breakfast is cooking, get your stuff together. We need to leave before the rest of the city wakes up."

He had a wagon and team out back, already hitched and ready to go. We traveled at a good pace but even so it took us the best part of the morning before we pulled up in front of a small ranch house that seemed miles from anywhere. It was already getting cold in preparation for winter here, but inside the house there was a big fire going. Kitty ran to greet me. I was so close to tears that I had to turn away from both of them for a while.

That Christmas was as special as the first one we all spent together. Kitty even wore that same silver necklace with the blue stones and had a small sprig of mistletoe hung up in the entranceway. The table was set with a perfectly browned turkey just like before and all the fixin's were there.

Their son was growing fast, he must have been four years old by then. It looked like he was going to be tall like his father, but he had a smile that came from Kitty.

The time passed all too quickly, and I returned to Dodge, telling them I would definitely be back one day to stay.

I procrastinated about taking those final steps. Dodge had its claws deeply embedded in my very soul by now.

Time went by so fast that three more years had flown before I made the decision to leave, but by then my strength was beginning to fail and the effort seemed too great. So I stayed.


	10. Chapter 10

"_It's not what you take when you leave this world behind you,_

_It's what you leave behind you when you go."_

(From the song, 'Three Wooden Crosses' written by Kim Williams and Douglas Johnson and recorded by Randy Travis.)

**The Diary 10. The Final chapter**

I know that over the last few months I have grown weaker and for a few days now I have not felt so well. I feel my heart missing beats, and sometimes there is a pain in my chest. I have to hurry if I want to finish my diary. I manage to gather up my papers and several short notes I have written to put them together in this old leather brief case. About a week ago I made out a will, not that I have much to leave to anyone, but there are a few sentimental objects that I want to go to certain people

I asked Ben to get my buggy brought up from the stable for me. He starts to object,

"Its alright," I tell him, "I know what I'm doing – just one last time."

He asked if I wanted him to come with me, but this was something I wanted to enjoy alone.

I headed the buggy out to that bend in the river where I had so often gone fishing. I knew I did not have the strength to get out and walk to the waters edge, but I could see the spot quite well from here. As if it were yesterday, I remembered the first time Matt and I came here to fish, so many years ago. I had been waiting to leave for California, but in spite of all my plans, that journey never happened. That was over a third of a century ago now. Things had changed so much in that time. For a start Dodge was no longer the wild town it had been. The buffalo trade and then the cattle had gone, along with the cowboys that drove them. The Long Branch was still there, but I knew very little of the owners and only a few of the customers now. There was still a US Marshal's office at the end of Front Street, but Matt Dillon was no longer there. Even old Jonas's Hardware Store was under different management, and I had seen a so-called Horseless Carriage on the streets on the streets of Dodge.

I took out my pen and ink, just a few more words to write and then it would be done.

I have documented so much of the lives of my family of friends, and some of my own. There were many other people that touched our lives during those years. They all deserve a mention.

There was Quint Asper. His father was a white man and his mother had been a Comanche Indian. His father had been killed by rogue white men, and he had turned back to his native tribe for comfort. Eventually that did not work out either and Matt persuaded him to come to Dodge. He stayed for several years, running a successful blacksmith shop. He and Matt became close friends. Quint had a great knowledge of the local Indian tribes, and could track anything that moved. Often he would ride out with Matt if his skills were needed. He would have put his life on the line for the big Marshal if necessary.

Then there was Thad, Clayton Thaddeus Greenwood to be accurate, the young straw haired boy that Matt took on as a deputy for several years. As innocent and naïve as he was when he first arrived in Dodge, he had definitely turned out to be a good friend to us all. I think Matt taught him a lot about life and people, as well as the law.

Louis Pheeters inhabited our town for many years. He had a terrible drinking problem, but beneath all that he was a decent man, probably well educated and affluent at one time. Like most people in Dodge his story remained a mystery. Matt kept an eye on him whenever he could, giving him odd jobs from time to time, even leaving him in charge of the jail when he had no other help. Louis would straighten up for a while, but the bottle always called him back. Many nights Matt would call me down to the jail where he had Louis laid up on one of the cots, suffering from the demons that were either the cause or the result of his addiction.

Moss Grimmick who ran the stable, Joe who waited table at Delmonico's. Then of course there were the stage drivers that came through on a regular basis. So many people I cannot remember them all.

Last there is Newly – last because he is still around, the last connection with my family of friends that had made Dodge what it was in my day.

It is getting difficult to see now. I must put my pen away and get these papers back in the case. Maybe I can try to take one more look at the fishing hole. I can see us there now, plain as day, the young ambitious marshal and the somewhat tarnished physician, just like we were all those years ago.

If I turn the buggy round and flip the lines maybe this horse can take me home.

Epilogue Added by Dr. Ben Hollister.

About ten days after Adams's last entry I added the following words. It seemed to me that his diary needed a satisfactory ending, an epilogue so to speak.

I heard the old buggy stop in the street by the office. Looking out the window I saw him slumped in the seat, the lines lose in his hands.

I rushed down the stairs. Jumping into the buggy I found his wrist. There was still a pulse, not a healthy one, but it was still trying. I got one of the men on the street to help, and we carried the elderly physician upstairs and laid him in his bed. The man left saying he would take the buggy back to the stables. He returned a while later with an old battered brief case.

"This was in the buggy," he said handing it to me. "How is he?" he asked me

I removed the stethoscope from my ears and shook my head.

"He was a good man," the man said shaking his head as he left.

Over the next few days several of the older citizens of Dodge came to check on their friend and physician.

A couple of times he spoke a few words to me, mostly about the old brief case. I managed to get him to sip a little water and on the couple of occasions he demanded whisky, I obliged. Once or twice when he seemed to be in pain I injected him with a little morphine. On the whole he was very peaceful, just lying there.

Almost a week had passed. I didn't think he would last the night. I heard footsteps on the stairs, there was a very tall man, probably, at one time he was even taller. With him a woman, she still carried the beauty of youth but her red hair had a few streaks of grey running through it. As they knocked and come through the door, I knew who they were even before the man introduced himself.

"Matt Dillon," he said holding out a large calloused hand. "This is my wife Kitty. We came to see Doc, I hope we are in time."

He looked towards the back room

"Yes he's still with us, but only just, go on in."

They go inside the room. The woman sat by the bed and took the frail old hand in hers. The man stood by her side with his hand on the doctor's shoulder.

"Doc it's us", she said. " Its Kitty and Matt, we came to see you."

The old man's eyes fluttered. I knew he heard.

I eased out of the room. "I'll be here if you need me," I told them.

They stayed all night, by morning the marshal called me to go in there. I listened with my stethoscope. Nothing, it was over. I pulled the sheet to cover his face.

Dillon arranged the funeral, not on Boot hill or at the church cemetery, but out by a small bend in the Arkansas River. He conducted the service himself. It was quiet, not too long, but very meaningful. The woman stood close by his side. I looked around and realized that there are other people there, a skinny man with a stiff leg, an old hill man wearing jangly spurs and a tall lanky man slightly grey but still with straw colored hair, and of course Newly. To my surprise I saw one of my professors from the medical college, I wondered what he was doing here. Before he turned to go I asked him. He smiled at me, "Why do you think I told you to come to Dodge? I knew Doc Adams from years ago. He was a special man and a great physician. I learned a lot from him and I thought you might do the same. Then, just maybe, there was a chance you would be good enough to fill his shoes one day."

He shook hands with the other people there by the bank of the river and quietly left. Someone had planted a simple grave marker. It said "G. Adams, Physician," and the date of his passing. I guess no one knew exactly the date of his birth.

I recognized them all from my old friends writings. These were the people that made Dodge what it is today.

Afterwards we went back to what is now my office. There was a will that needed to be read.

I get out a bottle of whisky and some glasses. Then I put the will on the table. "You read it I say to Newly."

To my dear friends and 'family,'

So my time has come. Just wanted to let you know what you all meant to me, and how you all made Dodge what it was in those days, and what it has become.

Thank you my friends, you all helped make my years in this city so meaningful.

I don't leave much behind, but Ben, this practice is yours now, and I know you will take good care of it. I leave you everything associated with it, except for my old bullet probe and forceps, not much call for them now anyway. I want Matt to have them. He will understand.

Matt, also take my black bag to remember me by. Kitty there is a pair of gold cufflinks engraved with my initials that you gave me many years ago. You don't know how much I treasured them. Please take them back and keep them safe.

Lastly there is my shingle. Kitty and Matt, I hope you finally got your place set up the way you wanted. Please take it and hang it over your fireplace, that way I will never be far from you.

Finally Chester, please take my pocket watch and remember the times we had, and Festus my spectacles, just in case you ever learn to read.

To each of you I have written a note. Please take it home and read it later. (I know that Festus might be in need some help there!)

Goodbye from your friend Galen Adams.

It was peaceful after that, no one said much. All the people left quietly, one by one, until only the Marshal and his wife remained. Doc had left a small envelope especially for me to hand to these people privately. He had never had a significant amount of money, but he had taken his last two hundred dollars from the bank. He wanted it to go to Matt and Kitty's son. One day he hoped he might want to study medicine and this would help him on his way.

Dillon came over and shook my hand. "Just you take good care of the people of Dodge," he said, and then they both shook my hand.

As quietly as they had arrived, they left. I never knew who had told them to come, but I guessed it had to have been Newly.

I have read the diary, and written the final scenes. I thought the ex marshal and his wife would appreciate a copy, also the man with the stiff leg and several of the others.

I will send this to some friends in Baltimore, where I can get it printed and several copies made. The original of course will go to Dillon and his wife. Newly will see that it gets to them and the other people, I'm sure.

I looked out of the window at this city. I was proud to be part of it and honored to have known these people that contributed so much to its very existence, especially my friend and teacher, Dr. Galen Adams.

The End


End file.
